Bryan Stevenson argues against the notion that justice and mercy are at odds. He posits that a judgment completely devoid of mercy will inevitably be extreme and unjust. Holding people accountable does not require stripping away the capacity for forgiveness, grace, and mercy.

Despite their desperation, the Dauphin's court didn't blindly trust Joan. They subjected her to a rigorous vetting process, including a physical examination to confirm her virginity and a theological inquiry by scholars at Poitiers. This was a form of medieval due diligence to mitigate the immense risk of backing a fraud or heretic.

Joan's judges faced a theological quandary: if her voices were demonic, was she a collaborator or a victim? Many assessors argued that being tricked by Satan isn't necessarily heretical, as all humans are fallible. This complexity shows the trial wasn't a foregone conclusion, with one theologian even suggesting consulting the Pope.

After months of defiance, Joan suddenly recanted at the sight of the execution pyre. She later admitted her reason was brutally simple: "I did it for fear of the fire." This reveals the immense psychological pressure she faced, framing her ultimate defiance as a return to her core identity despite the fatal consequences.

Joan's decision to wear men's clothing was a profound theological transgression, explicitly condemned in the Book of Deuteronomy. She never justified it on practical grounds like safety, but as a direct command from her voices. This framed the act as one of religious obedience that paradoxically broke religious law, making it central to her heresy charge.

The common desire for 'fairness' in the afterlife is reframed as undesirable. A truly fair judgment, based on actions, would lead to damnation for all. The Christian concept of grace is presented as inherently unfair—a merciful pardon rather than a just sentence.

After recanting, Joan resumed wearing male clothes. While significant, the legally damning act was admitting her voices had returned. This classified her as a "relapsed heretic," an unforgivable crime in the eyes of the Church for which the only punishment was death. A court clerk noted this in the margin as "Responsio mortifera"—a fatal reply.

Counterintuitively, when Cesare Borgia conquered cities and wiped out local rulers, he was beloved by the common people. By installing a regime free from local factionalism, he delivered neutral justice for the first time in generations, making his brutal rule seem preferable.

The presiding judge, Pierre Cauchon, went to great lengths to follow established inquisitorial rules. Knowing the trial would attract massive international attention, he aimed to create a legally sound verdict that would appear legitimate and unassailable to hostile observers, making it far more than a simple show trial.